Magical Mice at Cold Mountain
by Daroga's Rainy Daae
Summary: Benny and George (magical mice) scout out Mr. Jingles and enable him to talk, telling him that all he has to do to become a fully magical, magical mouse is go through a test of the best... ENJOY! :D


DRD Fuzz presents...  
  
The Green Mile: Talking Mouse Style!  
  
Part One: "George and Benny Meet Mr. Jingles"  
  
*deep in the snowy mountains, there is a prison, which preferred to be called a penitentiary. It felt that it was more important that way. Anywho, at this penitentiary, there is a special mouse, and we're about to make that apparent very soon...*  
  
George tapped his high-tech gadgety thing, which he liked to call a Special Mouse Radar. Adjusting his snow goggles, he tapped his SMR again with a fuzzy little paw, and held on to the tiny snow car with his tail, which had been especially made for the use of only two mice.  
  
"Benny, old friend, my SMR is conking out! I need more batteries!" George squeaked, his teeth chattering as they hit a rather inconspicuous bump in the road. He got a face-full of snow just then.  
  
"Yes, yes, I'm sure! It's amazing that Piper's contraption even works up here!" Benny answered. "But I'm driving in the right direction, aren't I? We'll make it to the prison soon, and then that little mouse who lives there will get the recognition he deserves!"  
  
"Yeah, recognition," George snorted. "I'm only coming along on this one to get away from 1885 Paris. Bad year, I say. Bad year in that bad city. Too many mice haters; remember how they were all trying to kill us? Disrespect! 1932 is better, but I'd much rather be back home. You know what, Benny? Me, you and Piper have been traveling year to year to year, helping people and mice all over the world, and we've got nothing to show for it! I want to go home. Do you remember 2003? Ahhh... those were the good old days..."  
  
"Stop complaining, it's for a worthy cause," Benny muttered, taking a particularly sharp turn and bombarding poor George with more snow, almost knocking him out of the fast-moving vehicle. "At least we weren't born normal mice; eating cheese all day... what a boring life that would be. Magical mice are much better off."  
  
"I guess you're right," George sighed.  
  
"There it IS!" Benny shrieked, pointing a small claw in the direction of Cold Mountain Penitentiary.  
  
George's radar beeped, and he stared up at the iron gate, which said the name of the prison on it. "No kidding," he muttered, twisting a knob to turn off his radar. Both mice hopped out of the snow car and scampered towards E block.  
  
"What was that mouse's name again? Mr. Jiggles?" Benny asked.  
  
"JINGLES, you idiot!" George answered, bopping his friend on the head.  
  
"Hey! That's the second time in two time-trips, you've done that!" Benny grumbled, rubbing his furry little scalp.  
  
"Shh! Look! Somebody's coming!" George said, ignoring Benny.  
  
"That's Paul Edgecombe," Benny whispered to George as the galumphing human oaf swung open the door to E block.  
  
"How the HECK didja know THAT?" George asked in astonishment.  
  
"I'm good with names," Benny replied, waving a paw at his partner. "Now, we have to wait for the perfect moment to slip through the door... now!"  
  
Benny and George made a break for the closing door. George rolled through, tucking his legs up into his chest so he was a ball, and sprawled across the mile in the nick of time. But Benny got his tail stuck.  
  
"I've got my tail stuck," Benny said apparently. The door sniggered at him.  
  
"Here, lemme help," George offered, pulling on his friend's tail.  
  
"Ouch!" Benny squeaked. "Quit the pulling!"  
  
"It's all right, it's almost out!" George assured him, yanking on Benny's tail as hard as he could. With a small pop, Benny and George tumbled across the floor.  
  
"Ha ha!" George said in triumph. Benny picked up his lifeless, kinked tail.  
  
"Let's find Mr. Jingles," Benny instructed. "Take out your radar. Let's see where he is."  
  
"Aye, aye," George muttered sarcastically. He pulled out the radar and turned it on. It beeped, and showed a little green dot on a screen. "It's over there," he instructed, pointing to a prison cell. He commenced to follow his claw when he tripped over a crack in the floor, and the radar went skidding across the mile.  
  
"CRAP!" both mice shouted passionately.  
  
"Cr-squeak-ap!" the prisoners heard them say in their minuscule voices.  
  
Suddenly, Paul stepped on the radar with a loud crunch. Paul heard nothing from his high place in the air.  
  
"DOUBLE CRAP!" Benny and George cried.  
  
"Double-freakin' cr-squeak-ap!" the prisoners heard the mice say. Paul looked down.  
  
"My God," he muttered under his breath. "We've been bugged by the government!" Then he called to his co-workers. "Hey, guys! Get a load of this!"  
  
Meanwhile, Benny and George were running around in circles, shouting things like, "Jingles is over there!," and, "No, he's over there!"  
  
Conveniently, Mr. Jingles appeared atop of Del's shoulder. Benny and George stopped, watching him, then murmured among themselves.  
  
"We must get his attention," Benny said.  
  
"Yes, let's jump him!" George offered.  
  
"You idiot!" Benny said. It was his turn to bop his partner on the head. "We can't jump a respected member of our species!"  
  
"Oh YES we can!" George argued, scurrying under the bars to Del's cell and climbing up the wall.  
  
"Get back here! George, you fool!" Benny protested. But it was of no use.  
  
"Jeronimo!" George squealed, flinging himself from the wall and into Mr. Jingles. The two of them were thrown to the ground so far below, and they wrestled for power over each other. Mr. Jingles was undoubtedly winning.  
  
"Ow! Ow! I give!" George hollered. Del tried to find out where his mouse had gone. George and Mr. Jingles had wrestled each other under the bed before the unmagical mouse bit into George's foot.  
  
"Squeak squeak squeakelly!" Mr. Jingles demanded.  
  
"Roughly translated," George said to himself, "I think that meant, 'What do you want with me, you fiendish son of a mother-' hey!"  
  
Mr. Jingles squeaked in content.  
  
"Look, Jingles-"  
  
"Squeaker," Mr. Jingles interrupted.  
  
"Look, MISTER Jingles," George corrected himself. "I don't want to harm you. My friend and I are here to help you."  
  
"Squeak squeak?" Mr. Jingles asked, curiously.  
  
"I was just about to tell you," George said, clearing his throat. "We - my partner and I - are going to give you the ability of speech! And therefore, you may become a member of our Magical Mouse Club! Let me introduce myself! I am George, and I am a magical mouse, part of the Magical Mouse Club, co-vice-president! My friend and I have two jobs in this club. One; to scout the planet and look for worthy mice to become magical and help us to do number two; help the most needy of the human race. For example, the last time we helped someone, it was for some chorus girl to see the inner beauty of people in 1885 Paris. She did quite nicely, I can assure you." He took a breath. "May I continue?"  
  
Mr. Jingles squeaked in reply and nodded.  
  
"We need more members now, and to make a long story short - the president of the Magical Mouse Club has created a device that can pick up signals of partly magical mice, so we can turn them into full magical mice. This device has a range of the whole world, and any time it wants. The time it picked up was 1932, and YOU, my friend, are the partly magical mouse we have been searching for! You may go on to great things, let me tell YOU!"  
  
"Squeak squeakly squeakie?" Mr. Jingles asked. In English, it meant, 'So what are you planning to do with me?'  
  
"First, we will magically give you the ability to talk, THEN you must pass the tests we give you in order to become a fully magical, magical mouse! Understand?" George perked his ears up.  
  
"What KINDS of tests?" Mr. Jingles asked slyly, in mouse language.  
  
"Tests of the best!" George puffed.  
  
"TESTS of the best!" Benny added, scurrying up beside George. "Let me introduce MYself! I am a magical mouse, other co-vice-president of the Magical Mouse Club! Will you join?"  
  
"Why do you want ME?" Mr. Jingles asked faintly, in mouse language.  
  
"Two reasons," George continued. "One; you are a very eligible mouse to become magical and stuff like that."  
  
"And two," Benny put in, "Er... we're desperate for members. Will you join?"  
  
"Yeah," Mr. Jingles said in the mouse tongue.  
  
"Sign here," Benny said, pulling a huge piece of paper out of thin air, and a pen, gesturing towards a line. Mr. Jingles quickly signed the paper.  
  
"Now what?" Mr. Jingles asked in English. "Yeep!" he cried in astonishment.  
  
"A success!" Benny shouted in triumph, giving George a high four. "You just sit here and relax. Go about your normal day. The tests begin - now!"  
  
And both magical mice disappeared into oblivion, not before whacking Mr. Jingles across the head. And everything went black... (for him).  
  
  
  
A/N: MORE to come if I get sum reviews! ENJOY! :) :) :) :) :) 


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